Page 80 of A Foreign Crown
“Oh—oh dear. And how does she feel about you?”
He considered his mother’s question. “She cares for me. But she was equally as torn as I was. Does one adhere to matters of the heart or head? Does one follow duty or love?” He shrugged. “I suppose neither of us knows the answer to that question.”
“And nor do I, but in this case, if the matter of the princess’s expectations can be cleared, and Lady Aribella’s father approves”—she held up a finger—“you just might find the lovely place where duty and love coincide happily together.”
He wanted to shout a great cheer down the corridors of the palace, but instead his grin grew wider, and he swayed where he stood, his feet tapping against the floor.
“Oh, come. Let us keep moving. I don’t think I can keep you in one place long enough to do any good for anything else.”
Once Layton had sent correspondence to Prince George, Aribella’s father, and even to the Queen herself, he relaxed enough to call for a boat to take him over to Brittiny Castle. He looked forward to walking the corridors with new eyes—Aribella’s eyes.
So much still stood in their way. But after talking with his mother, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps, despite everything, he might one day be able to welcome Aribella to Brittiny Castle as his wife.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aribella must have fallen asleepat her father’s side, because she awoke to his mumbling. She lifted her head off his bedcovers, and he smiled.
“It is time.” His words came out in a breathy whisper. His weakness was obvious, but his face was filled with joy.
Fear filled her, and her heart hammered in her chest. “No, don’t;
please stay.”
His eyes softened. “I have no ability to stay, but I want you to be happy.”
She nodded, desperately trying to stem the torrent of tears that threatened.
“Be happy. Go.”
“What?”
“Go. What does this castle have of the living in it still?”
“What are you saying?”
“You can let it go. The Sumter estate is carried in your heart, in the very blood that courses through your veins. Not in this crumbled-down old place. Let it go. Let Lord Bartholomew take care of the estate. He’s family. He’s a cousin.”
“But I thought—”
“That I wanted you to marry him?” He shook his head. “No, not now. Go to your prince.”
“You really think I should go to Layton?” She swallowed. “What about the princesses?”
“Go to him. They are in mourning and confused about the health of the King; it would be unwise for them to seek an alliance now with so much in question. Their preferences may change during the coming year, when they can at last pursue marriage again. Go to him. He prefers you, does he not?”
Aribella nodded and considered his words, not mentioning that she too would soon be in mourning.
“Then, go to him. Tell that steward of ours you wish for passage. He will arrange things. I’ve written to the Wilhelms telling them to expect you.”
“What?”
His grin made her laugh. Then he closed his eyes, and she reached for his hands.
“Father.”
“I’m here.”
“I... I’ll miss you. I love you, Father.”
